


The Inner Chamber

by one_golden_sun



Series: The King's Ransom [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, First Kiss, First Time, Getting Together, M/M, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-12
Updated: 2017-06-13
Packaged: 2018-11-13 10:38:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11183370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/one_golden_sun/pseuds/one_golden_sun
Summary: Nights with King Lafayette were everything. Sleeping in their giant, luxurious bed, curled around each other, meant everything to John. Despite the fact that often his days were lonely.That all changed about two years into their relationship.





	1. Chapter 1

For several years, John lived alone in the inner chamber, a series of rooms inside the palace. He had everything he needed: a sumptuous bedroom, a library that doubled as an artist’s studio, a comfortable sitting room, an extravagant bath, and an enclosed courtyard. The courtyard was his favorite, as it contained his small garden and the turtle pond he tended. Lafayette did everything he could to make him comfortable and happy. John’s life was quiet, sometimes a touch lonely, but predictable and comfortable. 

John rose most mornings with the rising sun, flooding through the skylights. Even on nights Lafayette stayed the night with him, he was always gone before the sun, getting right to work. So John woke alone. Bathed, chose a pretty but soft outfit. He took his meals in his sitting room. As far as he knew, the servant lady who brought him his meals was only one of two people who knew of his existence, aside from Lafayette of course.

He spent his days drawing, painting, reading, and caring for his garden and turtles. Sometimes, he had a visitor. Lafayette’s most trusted adviser, a retired general named Mr. Washington, would come to tutor John several times a week. Their sessions were robust discussions, and Mr. Washington would quiz him on politics, history, literature and mathematics. John enjoyed his visits, because even though he treasured his alone time, it was nice to have something to break up the monotony. 

Evenings, of course, belonged to Lafayette. When his day ended, more often than not he made his way to John’s quarters. John always waited for Lafayette before having supper, though Laf often had to dine with others. It made their relationship feel more homey. So, they would eat together, or John would eat while they talked. Sometimes, if Lafayette was feeling particularly affectionate, he would insist on pulling John into his lap, feeding him by hand. He insisted John eat well, dishes that changed with the season, balanced meals. What a contrast to the plain bread and porridge John had subsisted on as a servant. 

After supper, they would retire. Lafayette enjoyed many relaxing activities, often wanted to lounge in the library to read, unwind. John would share his latest art projects, and they would talk of their days. After an hour or so of a quiet evening, they would often make love. The King was insatiable, and John’s own appetites were quite high, so indulging them was a priority. 

Lafayette insisted on bathing John himself after sex, took the time to worship and care for his body. Their passion could be explosive at times, and Lafayette was attuned to John’s reactions. Bathing him, loving him, speaking soft words of praise, all to let him know how treasured he was. 

Nights with King Lafayette were everything. Sleeping in their giant, luxurious bed, curled around each other, meant everything to John. Despite the fact that often his days were lonely. 

That all changed about two years into their relationship. 

It wasn’t like Lafayette to oversee the sentencing of petty thieves, but something about this case intrigued him. One if his advisers mentioned the thief had been a scholar at some point, was brilliant and well educated. How odd he had been caught trying to steal from a local merchant. 

When they brought the thief in, Lafayette was shocked. He was quite pretty, young and dressed in simple commoners clothing. Instead of refusing to meet his eye, he brazenly glared up at Lafayette. 

“He has no respect, your highness,” one of the guards said carefully.

“What was the sentencing recommendation?” Lafayette said slowly. 

“Two years,” the other guard replied. “Hard labor.” 

If the thief cared about this, his face gave no indication. He continued to scowl. 

Lafayette dismissed the guards, waved off their insistence that the thief may be dangerous. With the guards gone, Lafayette and Washington were left alone with the thief. 

“What is your name, young man,” Washington asked. The thief’s face tightened. He mulled it over and hesitated. 

“What’s it matter? Surely, I’ll have a prison camp number soon enough.”

“I have an...alternative offer,” Lafayette said. “To your sentence. But we must know your name.”

When the thief remained stubbornly silent, Washington cut in. “Your King has addressed you directly, young man. What he has to offer you will be a much kinder option than the labor camps. Answer him.”

Grunting and more scowling. “Alexander Hamilton,” he finally spat. 

“Alexander. The King has a proposition for you. See, he has a... a…” Washington looked to Lafayette.

“I have a lover, Alexander. A young man named John. For obvious reasons, we keep our relationship secret. He lives here in the palace, hidden. I think you would make a fine companion and tutor for him.”

“For how long would I serve this way?” 

“Same as your sentence. Two years.”

A calculating look came over Alex’s face. “Would I be required to perform the same...more intimate... duties as your concubine?” He finally asked. A look of extreme distaste crossed Lafayette’s face. 

“Absolutely not,” Lafayette said firmly. “And John is not my concubine, he is my lover.”

Alexander chose to bite his tongue. If he were to make it through these two years, he might as well start now.

***  
They added a small private bedroom and office for Alex to use to the inner chamber. John was shocked when Washington and Lafayette brought Alex to him, shocked and shy. Lafayette only had a moment or so to explain what was going on before he had to rush off to some other business. 

Sooner than they both would have liked, they were left alone. John practically cowering in his plush sofa in his sitting room, Alex perched on a stool, taking in his surroundings. Honestly, the living quarters were very nice, very regal. Royal, even. No, two years here wouldn’t be too bad. Comfort, three square meals a day, and while the company was shy, he was at least easy on the eyes.

“The King trusts you,” John said quietly. “How am I to be sure you won’t...won’t…”

“Won’t what?” Alex said. Glared at John. A pretty little slip of a thing, copper skin dusted with freckles, a wild mane of dark curls, sweet face. “Hurt you? Ravish you? Hold you hostage and demand my freedom?” 

John blanched at his flippant suggestions. “Something like that,” he whispered. 

“You said it yourself,” Alex said. “The King trusts me. Look, we worked it out, I signed the contract. I won’t touch you. And I certainly won’t harm you. I may be a common thief, but I’m not stupid, and I don’t have a death wish.” He plucked an apple from the bowl sitting on the side table. “This beats the labor camps. And I’m not going to jeopardize that by taking liberties with the King’s favorite whore.”

At his words, John turned redder than the apple in Alex’s hand. “I am not a whore,” he whispered. “I love the King. And he loves me.” 

“I...uh...meant no disrespect,” Alex said slowly. “I assume, since, you know… You can never marry him. You will be his whore, and nothing else.” John’s face continued to burn as he rose from his sofa, rushed out of the sitting room to his private bed chambers. Alex called after him, but was firmly ignored. 

This was not going well. 

***  
Part of Alex’s contract stated he was to take his supper in his private quarters when the King came to be with John in the evening. Immediately, Lafayette could tell John was troubled as they sat down to their supper. 

“What ails you, my sweet one?” he asked, setting down his soup spoon. John had not made a move to even touch his meal. His face was unreadable, a quiet storm passed over his features.

“Do you…” John paused, considered his words. “Do you consider me as your whore?” 

Lafayette practically spit out of the mouthful of wine he just sipped. “Absolutely not,” he said vehemently. “Where would you get such a notion?”

Guilt settled on John’s shoulders. “You can never marry me,” he said softly. “I am destined to remain your dirty secret, an outlet for your carnal pleasures.” His voice rang hollow, his eyes distant. Lafayette shed decorum, leapt from his chair so he could gather John into his arms.

“Do you not think for a moment these laws torment me, daily? That I would give anything, anything, to have you as my husband? These carnal pleasures you speak of, they are only so tantalizing because of the love I feel for you? My love for you, it burns inside me like raging firestorm, and is only quenched by your touch. I love you, my John, love you so desperately it is like an open wound, and your kisses a salve for such an injury.”

“No need for theatrics,” John said primly, but smiled at Lafayette. “Of your love, I am certain. Do not make a spectacle.” He glanced at the shut door that led to Alex’s room, and Laf considered this. 

“Has...someone perhaps...fed you this wicked lie? That you are my whore?” 

The look on John’s face told him everything he needed to know. He marched to Alex’s door, knocked three times. Alex appeared, book in hand. “I was under the impression my duties ended at suppertime,” he said grumpily.

“We must speak,” Lafayette ordered, and pointed at an empty chair for Alex to sit upon. The rage coming off of him was silent but palpable, and Alex had to steel himself. “You have been brought here for two reasons. To be a companion to John and tutor him in scholarly pursuits. At what point did I give you permission to call him names?”

“Begging your pardon, your majesty, I didn’t call him a name. I merely remarked that I was not stupid enough to lay a hand on the King’s favorite whore, in an attempt to assuage his misguided notions that I would perhaps harm or seduce him.”

Anger burned in Lafayette’s eyes as he stared down at Alexander. “Let me be absolutely clear. John is not my favorite anything. He is my only. He is my everything. I should not be surprised that you would bastardize our love and romance into something so crass. He is my spouse and partner in everything but name, and you will treat him as you treat me. Nay, you shall treat him better. He is the only reason you are here. You will be kind, and respectful, and fair. Further, do not even speak of laying a hand on him. If you ever touch him without his express consent, it will be the last thing you do this life. Am I clear?”

“Crystal,” Alex said. Why the fuss about semantics? This was all nonsense to him. And he already said he wouldn’t touch him. He figured this was some kind of showmanship, that the King was trying to prove something to John. But again, what was the point? Who cared of a whore’s opinion?

“If I get word that you have spoken to John like this again, our contract is void. You are dismissed.” 

Alex glared, gave a little bow, and returned to his bedroom. 

When they were alone again, John chewed his lip. “You did not have to do that,” he finally said. Lafayette returned to his side, and John could see him quivering with anger. 

“I cannot...will not...stand for anyone speaking ill of you.” 

John sighed, went to pour Lafayette a cup of tea. “Perhaps he spoke the truth...and that is why are you are so angry.” 

With eyes full of sadness, Lafayette looked to him again. “This is not true, my love. No one knows me better than you. You are my lifeline, you hold my very heart. A whore...does their duty and nothing more. Is this how you see our time together? An obligation?”

Setting down the teapot, John took Lafayette’s hand in his. “Say nothing more on this matter, my dear,” John said. “I love you as fully as one can, of this you can be sure. The words of a criminal hold no weight in my heart.”

That night they kissed, but they did not make love. Lafayette cradled John close until he succumbed to sleep, wracked his mind on how to prove to John how much he meant to him. 

***

When John emerged from his bedchambers, Alex was sitting at the table, a stack of books and some parchment in front of him. 

“The King sleeps here?” he asked incredulously. It was the first words out of his mouth. John drew his dressing robe tighter around his body, suddenly aware that he was nude under the silk. 

“Is that your business?” John shot back. Sat down at his breakfast laid out on the table. 

“Sort of. I live here now. I’m just curious, is all.”

John squinted at Alex, lifted the piece of toast to his mouth. “Lafayette has made it clear our relationship is none of your concern. And frankly, I find your curiosity is steeped in judgement.” 

“It is kind of strange,” Alex said, ignoring John’s dismissive tone. “What do you think is going to happen when he gets married? Takes a queen? Are you just gonna live here, forever?”

Instead of answering, John munched on his toast. 

“Or is leaving an option for you? Oh my god, are you a prisoner too? His pleasure slave? I mean, I gotta admit, it’s a much nicer deal than prison, but--”

“I assure you. I am here on my own free will. I do not wish to speak of this anymore.” The toast was suddenly dry in his mouth. Could Alexander not realize how invasive he was being?

“You’re a fool,” Alex said simply. “You let yourself be held here?” 

John sighed. His breakfast settled uncomfortably in his stomach. He did not like this young man, and was feeling smothered by his mere presence. “I am going for my morning bath. I do not wish to be disturbed. You have struggled with taking hints, however, so I will say this plainly. Stay here, do not follow me. Am I understood?” 

“I’m a commoner, not an idiot,” Alex said. “I do not think the King would take kindly to me ogling his lover while he bathed.” The emphasis he put on the word ‘lover’ made it sound just as crude as ‘whore,’ and had John grimacing.

Instead of arguing, however, he went to draw his bath. Dreaded having to spend the day with such a person.

***

The first few weeks of Alex’s sentence were rocky at best. John was distant, and often sullen. He didn’t like the way Alex spoke to him, it was condescending. While John knew he himself was not educated, he was well-bred and came from a good family, had been raised in a noble household and had served in the palace as the highest class of servant. His writing may have been childish and his knowledge limited, but he could read, and write, speak properly. He had fine manners. What he had, Alexander lacked, and the opposite was true. 

Alexander loved to argue, loved to show off his vast knowledge of many topics. When he wasn’t trying to draw John into a discussion, he was writing. Through the weeks, while John still wasn’t sure if he liked Alex, he had to admit a begrudging respect for him.

“Do you regret me bringing him here?” Lafayette asked one night as they lay tangled in the bed sheets. John curled under Laf’s arm, let himself get dizzy off his scent. He found comfort in it, the evidence of their lovemaking. It grounded him.

“No. Not exactly. I have learned from him.” John sighed, nuzzled closer to his lover. “I find him tiring at times.” He paused thoughtfully, tired to think of some positive things to say, so Lafayette would not think he thought low of his...gift. “He does have his good points. He is quite funny, and clever. He can be kind at times. His company is...a gift. At times.”

A low laugh rumbled in Lafayette’s chest. He rolled so he could pin John beneath him, capture his lips in searing kiss. “The way you speak, perhaps I should feel threatened?”

“Never,” said John. “No man could ever shake what I feel for you.”

“Well, of course not. But. I am jealous. He does get hours upon hours of your waking company.” 

“Perhaps,” said John. Paused for another kiss. “If I could have my way, I would be by your side every minute of every hour.” 

Eyes sparkling, Lafayette reached behind him on the table next to his side of the bed. Presented John with a small wooden gift box. “I cannot be by your side, but perhaps, this token, could be a reminder?” 

John sighed with anticipation over the gift, lifted the lid. Went into peals of delight over the gold bangle he found there. It was set with several sapphires, and sparkled in the candlelight. “Oh, my love. Place it on me?” John held out his wrist, watched as Lafayette delicately slid the bangle in place. Pressed several tender kisses on John’s arm as he held eye contact. 

The could not help themselves, made love passionately for a second time that evening. 

***

The next morning over breakfast, Alexander was unusually quiet. He sipped his coffee and threw a few scathing looks at John when he was able to tear his eyes out of his book. After about the third time he glared, John set down his teacup, cleared his throat. 

“If you have something you want to share, it would be best to just say it aloud,” John said sharply, returning Alex’s glare this time. “I daresay keeping things in may make you...disagreeable.”

Alex scoffed at that, a bark of a laugh that lacked any warmth. “Oh, and having me be disagreeable would be the absolute worst.” 

“You know very well what I mean.” John looked at him directly, spoke evenly and calmly. “If you have something to say, please say it.”

“I see you have a new trinket,” Alex said sardonically, drawing out the enunciation of each word. “And I happened to hear the extent at which you went to...express your gratitude. These walls are thin and your passion was...unbridled.” 

John blushed furiously. How mortifying for his companion to have heard him when he was most vulnerable, lost in the depths of intimacy! 

“I apologize,” John stammered, unable to meet Alexander’s eye. “In the future we will practice more discretion, so our evening...activities will not disturb you.” 

When he finally pulled his gaze up to meet Alexander’s he found him smiling playfully, his eyes glinting. “I did not say I was disturbed. Not in the slightest.” And though his tone was soft and unthreatening, John blushed even harder, as embarrassed as if Alexander had watched the two of them the evening before instead of merely heard. And the way he looked at him, all of sudden, like John was naked in front of him.

John adjusted his clothes, picked up his spoon for his porridge. “Let’s put this behind us,” he said. Adjusted his sleeves, liking the way his new bangle picked up the light. Alex’s eyes were on it, on him. 

“It does look lovely on you,” Alex admitted. “The color is very nice against your skin tone.”

John blushed, whispered his thanks, returned to his breakfast and Alexander to his book.


	2. Chapter 2

Something imperceptible shifted between Alexander and John in that moment. After that conversation, that morning, there was a charge. John felt it, felt the air around them change. It lived in the way Alex peered over his shoulder when he was writing, gently made suggestions inches from his ear. It lived in the way he caught Alex looking at him, when he was sketching or painting or working in his garden. In lived in the way their hands brushed as Alex handed him a book, or a another quill, or the document he was reading. 

Falling in love with Lafayette had been like tending a garden; it had been seeded and watered and cared for, and now was an endless field of flowers that continued to bloom. Falling for Alexander was a storm that suddenly sprung up on the horizon, and before you knew it you were caught in the downpour. 

And the was the problem, wasn’t it? When John realized exactly what was happening, that suddenly Alex went from boorish, crude and condescending to endearing, charming and admirable, the fear sprung up in him. His heart was claimed long ago by Lafayette, so why now was it suddenly skipping beats every time Alexander looked his way? 

This was the odd thing, though. One might think that the love of two, one must win out. Your garden against the storm. Would the flowers drown? Would the storm pass? Yet, despite this new knowledge, his sudden feelings for Alexander, his love for Lafayette continued to grow. Every moment with him was a treasure. 

Then, one day, Alexander kissed him.

Just a simple lean over the book they were both looking over, he caught him by the chin and their lips met, just for a moment or two. John hadn’t opened to the kiss, but he hadn’t pulled away either, and to avoid the swell of guilt, he of course told Lafayette.

The King watched him tell the story over dinner, as blandly and straightforward as he could manage. Instead of anger, or jealousy, or indifference, Lafayette merely laughed. 

“You are not...displeased?” John asked. He had barely touched his plate of food. 

“I am amused, more than anything,” Lafayette admitted. “Honestly, it was bound to happen. What, with all the alone time you two have. Your beauty is hard to resist, my love.” Leaning back in his chair, he smirked. “And while I am not threatened by his advances, I am willing to...win your favor if need be.”

John’s eyes narrowed. “What favor is this? Do we not already have an arrangement, my dear? A rather committed and intimate one?” 

“We do,” Lafayette agreed. “But a little bit of competition, I do find invigorating. Interesting.”

Instead of joining him in a smile, John continued to frown. “And what of my desires in this?”

Lafayette ignored his question, kept talking, looking dreamy. “Yes, two virile young men, competing for the pleasures of the same worthy prize--”

The table rattled as John stood up, glowering. “I am not a prize to be won,” he declared stiffly. “I am retiring to bed.” 

Lafayette looked shocked, glanced at John’s full plate. “But, dearest, you have not touched your supper.”

“I am tired. Good night.” John disappeared into bedroom. Lafayette stared at his empty chair, unsure if he were permitted to follow. 

***

The worst thing was John had no idea where he stood at the moment. He didn't have the conversation with Lafayette that he had planned, about boundaries and Alexander, when instead Lafayette insisted on turning it into his own private, boorish power fantasy. So now it was breakfast, and he sat across from Alex, feeling shy under his brazen gaze. Their conversation was minimal, but thankfully Alexander didn’t question it, simply set up their morning lessons (mathematics and philosophy) while John took his morning bath. 

As John emerged from the baths, he was shocked to see Lafayette in the sitting room, pretending to be absorbed in some document while Alex grumbled to himself at the table, parchment covered in figures fanned in front of him. 

 

“My darling!” Lafayette greeted him enthusiastically, pulling him close for a rather intimate kiss, considering Alex was right there. John accepted the kiss, but squinted at Lafayette in suspicion. It was all so brazen. A clear display of possession. 

“Why are you here, my love?” John asked, the endearment rolling off his tongue automatically. He saw Alexander wince. 

“His majesty has arranged his schedule so he can complete his duties here, and oversee your lessons,” Alex said crisply, still refusing to look at either of them. He was angry, and John struggled to tell if it was because he felt the quality of his teaching was being called into question, if he felt chastised because of the kiss, if Laf’s presence would infringe on their own time together, or if something else entirely. 

“And to spend more time with you,” Lafayette added, still smiling. “I am also eager to better know Alexander.”

At this, Alex finally turned, his face full of barely restrained rage. “My contract states I am here to be John’s companion,” he intoned, the words crisp like bullets. “Not yours.” 

Hearing the waspish tone, Lafayette sat up straighter in his chair. “Your contract also states you will educate John, and I reserve the right to audit the quality of the lessons.”

“Oh, but of course,” Alex said, his tone now pompous. He flourished his arm over the papers on the table. “We are discussing the properties of division today. I am sure you are familiar. When one divides a quantity, it creates _equally shared_ quantities.” 

John stared at Alex, wondering why he was reciting the most rudimentary definition of an arithmetic operation at the King. To his credit, Lafayette looked offended at the condescension, but picked up the topic effortlessly, as if discussing the weather. 

“This equally shared law does not always hold true,” he countered. “What of dividing by one? The initial quantity remains constant, nothing lost or gained or...shared.”

“One is such a pedestrian number, wouldn’t you agree, John?” Alex shot the question at him, glaring. “Pedestrian and selfish.”

“I honestly have no strong thoughts on the number,” John said softly. “Come, Alex, let’s work…”

“The number one is the foundation of mathematics, cannot be dismissed so breezily. It was...there...first.” Lafayette huffed, and Alex smirked triumphantly, as if he had proven some salient point, and John stood there in between them, wondering what was at the heart of this conversation.

He decided to appeal to Lafayette, hoping to diffuse the wellspring of tension that had bubbled up in the room. “Darling, while your interest in my lessons is well-intentioned, I would hate to intrude on your strenuous schedule.”

“Not intrusion, I am well equipped to complete my tasks here. Perhaps I will be more productive without half the royal court breathing down my collar!” 

Alexander made a small noise in the back of his throat, and Lafayette glared at him. “Do you have a thought you would like to share, Alexander?”

“Ah, it was nothing. Just wondering if your preoccupations are the reasons that led to economic collapse of the Northeastern province?” Alex remarked. 

Silence like a lead balloon descended, a horrible long moment where John was on the edge, worried about the King’s reaction. Would he send Alexander away? Flex that power he had threatened the evening before? In that awful moment that yawned in front of them, John realized something. He cared for Alexander, cared for him quite a bit more than he realized, and the thought of him banished to the labor camps was heart wrenching. Yet, if he had to choose between Alexander, where love was just starting to blossom, and Lafayette, where his love was so deep it was an actual part of him….

He waited. Silent.

“I will take your question under consideration,” Lafayette finally said diplomatically. Rustled his own papers. “Carry on with your lessons. I will be working over here if my presence is needed.”

The eyes he made at John were bordering on sad, and John felt more puzzled. He looked back, tried to read him, but Lafayette just shook his head and so he took his seat next to Alex, began to work through the page of equations presented to him.

***

A new pattern began. For several hours a day, Lafayette did parts of his work in the inner chamber, silently pouring over documents and decrees, edicts and letters, while John continued to study under Alexander. The atmosphere was icy for the first few weeks, but then warmed up considerably after three things happened.

The first, was that Lafayette watched, really observed, how his John was with Alexander. There was a lightness to their interactions, to how Alexander guided him, to the soft way Alex spoke to John, the easy way John laughed with him. 

When he told John of his observations, John looked surprised. 

“You are different around him,” Lafayette said. John lifted his head off the pillow, stared down at his normally dominant, self assured, confident lover. The note of of hesitance in his voice. 

Lafayette was jealous. 

“My dearest, there’s no need for--”

“You misunderstand me,” Lafayette said, so quiet, John strained to read the notes in his voice. “I am not threatened. I am...pleased. There are things Alexander can give you I cannot.”

John’s face softened at that, and smoothed Laf’s furrowed brow. “You give me everything,” John confessed. “My love, you _are_ everything.” He rolled closer. Gave him that part of himself he reserved only for him.

The second thing that happened was one evening, while the three of them worked on separate pursuits in the sitting room (John sketched, Alexander read, and Lafayette composed a letter), John asked an innocuous question so trivial he could later not recall, but something in Lafayette’s response set Alexander off, and this time he did not hold his tongue. 

“There are _plenty_ of places in your perfect kingdom that you’ve neglected,” Alexander snapped, and Lafayette looked at him seriously. 

“Do you care to elaborate this time?” he invited. Alex’s nostrils flared. John lowered his sketch book.

So Alex launched into a story, sparing no detail. The collapse of the currency in the province he lived, his village suddenly dealing with economic upheaval, shortages and the nosediving value of gold and paper money. A barter economy cropped up, and Alexander, whose skills as an academic held little value in such a situation, had to resort to stealing to feed his ailing mother. Despite his best efforts, she died, and Alex was arrested when attempting to steal some cloth from a local merchant, simply to trade with the gravedigger for a proper burial for his mother. 

Lafayette and John sat in shocked silence. Alex spoke of hunger, and cold, and filth. Of children crying in the streets, their bellies empty and their parents gone. Of the girls he’d grown up, not going off to good marriages and happy families, but to lives begging in gutters, offering their bodies for enough coin to buy a meal. Of the fellow students he studied with, turning to violence and whiskey. 

That night, Lafayette lay next to John, troubled. John tried to soothe him with soft pets and kind words, but he was unmoved. 

When John came out from his bath the next morning, he was shocked to see Alex and Lafayette sitting together, close enough to pour over the same document, Alexander spiritedly sharing his ideas, his plan, the thing he’d been writing and working on since the day he came to the palace. 

And Lafayette listened.

So, suddenly, where begrudging tolerance once lived, was replaced with eye-opening respect. With Alex opened up, and Lafayette warming to him, the two debated. They discussed. They plotted. And now John was torn between happiness and relief that they were getting on, and the smallest bit of jealousy that that their connection left him out. 

The third thing that happened was one evening, not too long after Lafayette enacted parts of the economic plan Alexander had drafted, John and Laf were enjoying their supper when thunder sounded. John had to rush out to the courtyard, cover his turtle pond with the wooden board he kept for such occasions, while Lafayette had the servants clear their dinner dishes. As the lightening flashed and the thunder sounded, the whooshing of winds and the downpour of rain, Alexander emerged from his bed chambers looking pale.

“Alexander!” John rushed over, put a hand to his cheek. “Are you alright? You look wretched.” 

“Don’t like storms,” he mumbled. “Can’t...can’t be alone.” 

John noticed Lafayette watching him. He had to be careful of his King’s feelings, of course, but Alexander, his one friend, for whom his insides sparked curiously, needed him, needed comfort in this moment, and it was John’s nature to provide. He pulled Alex to the sofa, wrapped an arm around his shoulders. He could reach the bookshelf from where he sat, plucked a volume up and opened it one hand. 

“I know these are children’s stories,” John said softly. “But when I’m scared, they often bring me comfort.” Alexander, still white as a sheet, clung to the front of John’s shirt, nodded, his jaw tense. This was the quietest the man had ever been around them, and it was disconcerting. Seeing Lafayette’s encouraging smile, while the storm roared, John opened to a random fairy tale, began to read aloud. 

As Alex relaxed in increments, Lafayette came to the sofa. Sat on John’s other side held them both as John continued to read. 

When the King reached across John to lay a comforting hand on Alex’s shoulder, he did not shrug from his touch. 

***

The night Alexander came into their bed was unremarkable in every other way. He’d been living with them for a little less than half a year and the shifts had happened. Things fell into place in such a way John could hardly remember a time before Alexander. His companionship, sharp mind, biting wit, coupled with infinite patience and burning passion for the issues he found dear to him. 

Even though John and Lafayette had discussed beforehand, John was still nervous. Aside from the kiss they shared a few weeks prior, the only man he’d been affectionate with for years was Lafayette, yet he could no longer deny his feelings, that he wanted Alexander to make love to him and he wanted Lafayette there for it. 

“Are you certain you are comfortable with this?” John asked him the night before. 

Lafayette made a sound of assent in the back of his throat. “I will go to any lengths to make you happy, little one. I am secure enough in our love for one another that I am not shaken by the thought of a third. Plus, there is something extremely seductive, imagining watching you with another man I must admit attraction to.”

John grabbed his hand, pressed it to his face. “And if it doesn’t work out, darling, nothing is permanent. We can always return to just the two of us.”

A smile spread across Lafayette’s face as he cupped John’s cheek. “You are mistaken. One thing is permanent. My love for you, it is endless and timeless, as permanent as any mountain, the ocean, the sun, the sky, the--”

John kissed him to shut him up. 

So now, here they were, the three of them in the bed, John kneeling while Alex sat cross legged across from him, Lafayette lounging back against the pillows. 

It was Alexander who broke the silence. “So how will this work?”

“However you would like it to,” Lafayette said. “Do you want to share how you are feeling? Are there limitations or boundaries you would like us to mind?”

Alex cleared his throat, looked directly at them when speaking. Not a trace of shyness. “I am not comfortable being on the receiving end of any penetration. I also do not care for any tight spaces, being held down and the like.”

John nodded, neither surprised nor disappointed. Lafayette and he had already spoke on this, and the King confessed that while he wished to be intimate with Alexander, perhaps watch John and him make love, he had little to no interest in lying with him the same way he did with John. 

“Our boundaries align,” Lafayette said quietly, reached to touch John’s arm with the back of his finger. He smiled at his touch, looked at Alexander. 

“Will you make love to me, Alexander?” John asked, his eyes suddenly demure. “Since that day, when we kissed, I have wanted such a thing to happen, and, if you want it too--”

As a response, Alex lunged forward on the bed, snagged John into his arms. Their lips met, and they clung to each other, mouths sloppy and eager. Alex plunged his hand into his hair, held him close as his tongue danced against John’s. Kissing someone else was so different, so electrifying, John moaned and scooched closer, pushed himself into Alex’s lap. In the background, Lafayette making a sound of pleasure, and John just let Alex hold him, kiss him, pet his hair. 

Alexander pulled away long enough to look at him, examine him close, face to face, every detail of him. “You are exquisite,” Alex professed, fingertips on his cheekbone, thumb on his lower lip. “A vision sweeter than any dream.” John just closed his eyes, kissed Alexander more. He’d had his fill of words for the moment, wanted to taste Alex’s desire rather than hear it.

He was not disappointed. Alex kissed him back desperately, offered himself in a way that was both surprising and different. John had hoped not to, but couldn’t help but quietly compare him to Lafayette, to the differences of their kisses, how their arms felt, the technique. And while his attraction to the King would never wilt, not in this lifetime, a taste of someone new and novel ignited the fire in his belly swiftly. 

The storm again, Alex sweeping him up, laying him out, pushing layers of fabric away, kissing with a base and instinctual energy, his lips, his eyelids, his neck, his shoulder. There was a gentleness, a restrained sort of care, that made John wonder if Alex was somehow reining in his passions, treating him with delicacy, out of respect or trepidation. The thought warmed him, made him feel beautiful and fragile. 

Somehow, amidst the kissing, the unwrapping, Lafayette rolled closer, nosed at John’s hair until he broke away from Alex long enough to surrender his lips, allowed the King to kiss him now, while he felt situating himself above him, over him. “Darling,” John whispered, touched both of their faces, unclear who to turn his attentions to. But then Alexander was smirking, looking at Lafayette with an eyebrow lifted and a storm brewing in his eyes. John watched as they kissed now, their lips meeting tentatively, testing the waters. 

 

A tinge of jealousy on the back of his tongue, so he whimpered for attention. His lovers separated, both looking at him. Alexander chuckled and Lafayette kissed his forehead, smiling indulgently. “Whatever is the matter, little one?” he teased, his lips twitching. “Are you not getting everything you want?”

John made a small confused sound, something between a whine and an exasperated groan, unsure what to say. Alex seemed to have found some sort of opening, though, and picked up on...something. “I daresay the little kitten is getting greedy…” Alex mused, curled a hand around his hip and hoisted him up a bit, making him squeak in surprise. “Selfish…” 

Lafayette laughed at Alexander’s comment, but nuzzled John to soothe any of his annoyance. “I think you will come to find he is not selfish, so much as he is _impatient_ ,” he teased, simply grinning when he caught John’s scowl. 

“Oh, I am impatient?” John snipped softly. “Should I tell Alexander of your shining displays of patience in the palace corridors in the middle of the night?” 

“How you wound me!” Lafayette said in mock despair, cuddled closer and looked up at Alexander with playful eyes. “I would claim that regaling Alexander with such a tale would be...shameful, but I think once he experiences the full gifts of your body and charm, he would relate. Understand how easy it is to become undone.”

“Now I am the impatient one,” Alex grumbled, but still grinned feral. Nudged his way back in, claimed a kiss from each of them. Vaguely wondered how he went from thieving in his village to cavorting with the King and his lover in the royal bed chambers. Feeling nothing but love in his heart and lust in his belly. 

For the next few minutes, everything was a blur. Alex wished he could say he was patient, that he unwrapped John slowly, savored him like his favorite book of poetry, the words rolling off his tongue. Instead, he was a man ravenous, starving, and John was a meal. 

He wanted to devour.

Pile of clothing on the floor next to the bed. Soft tan skin, and freckles, bundles and trails of them, like the tails of shooting stars. Alex kissed each patch of them, hungry to see every part of him, especially the part where his face changed when he combed his fingers through the pretty thicket of curls at the base of his cock, daring to skim his hand lower. He was a sight, flushed pink and squirming in Lafayette’s loose embrace, eyes half lidded and biting his lower lip, clearly wanting more but too shy to directly ask for it. Alex chose to indulge him, took him in hand and gave him a few teasing tugs, watched his face change, the play of his expression. Gorgeous. 

Hands lower now, legs, the meaty backs of John’s thighs, prying him up and open. Kisses laid down from his knee to his ass, careful and slow. John sat up now, watching him in fascination, and Alex had to fight the urge to make a smart comment, asking if the King had ever done this for him, instead pressing his mouth to John’s hole, letting his tongue wriggle its way inside him. Heard John fall back into the bedding, gasp aloud, start to _whine_ but Lafayette muffled him with a kiss, only pausing so he could watch Alex work, licking John until he was aching for it. 

“How’s that?” Alex asked, sitting up a bit and taking a breath. The King looked at him with approval, and John with unbridled want, trying to catch his own breath as his heart hammered. In his own past, Alex had many lovers, all types, both men and women, but he would have sworn in that moment he’d never had one looking like he wanted it as much as John did in that moment. They reached for each other, Lafayette offering him a glass vial of fine oil, so he could bury his fingers inside John with ease, feeling the soft flesh yield for him, still damp from his own mouth. 

“Don’t make me wait,” John mewled, fluttered his eyelashes. Alex kissed him again, withdrew his hand so he could grasp himself, lined up with John’s entrance. As he pushed inside, John’s body yielding to him, he was surrounded with the soft moans, the smell of both of them, felt his heart swell and had to kiss them each in turn, even as John twitched below him, crying out for more. 

If undressing and caressing John had been a blur, making love to him was a tempest. Alex lost himself to warmth of his body, the exquisite pleasure of connecting with him, of being cradled in his limbs, of the three of them touching, the King’s lips so close. 

Alexander laid his head over John’s heart and pounded into him, bringing his eyes up only enough to watching him and Lafayette kiss, or to witness Lafayette watching the both of them. 

***

It became apparent quite quickly to John the advantages three had over two. The addition of Alexander into their bed not only filled the aching need he had to connect intimately with him, but opened up a world of erotic possibilities that thrilled all three of them. 

 

Alexander bending to suckle him while Lafayette buried his dick inside him over and over. Being held in Lafayette’s capable arms, kissed and cuddled whilst Alexander tongued at his hole before making love to him. Getting to watch Lafayette and Alex together, nervous at first but finding a rhythm, arranging themselves on the bed to suckle at each other in tandem, getting lost in the feeling of giving and receiving simultaneously. Stretching between the both of them in what Alexander referred to as “bridging,” or just “the bridge,” allowing one of his lovers in his ass while the other got his mouth, getting to pleasure both of them at once, their moans and sighs filling the room.

Outside of the bedroom as well, life hit a pleasant cadence. Shared meals, Alex teaching John and advising Lafayette, John curling up in either of their laps for conversation, bathing together, gardening. He still had his solitude when he needed it, but his love for both them sustained him. He savored that they got to be together most waking hours. 

John was happy.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come say hi on tumblr: @likearootlesstree


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